Under the Table
by jwoo
Summary: Things look better under the table, especially when a certain redhead twin joins Luna in her musings. Starts slow but there will be fluff so please bear with me! R
1. Chapter 1

A little story about Luna and George set after the war – enjoy!

Really, things looked much better from under the table. After a few gatherings at Grimmaud place in the last couple of months – it had taken two years since the death eathers had broken into it to fully repair and refurbish it, fit for human inhabitancy – Luna had come to this conclusion. She fully believed in taking time to come to conclusions.

There was something rather inclusive about lying here, surrounded by the voices of loved ones, and this combined with the secure feeling of the table made it feel comfortable. Womblike, she supposed, though she couldn't say for sure, having no clear memories of that period of her life.

You could see things under the table that you couldn't see from above too. Above, everybody had their public faces on, laughing and smiling, and talking about what everyone was talking about. But underneath things happened that bore no relation to the conversation. Like… like Harry's hand, tracing small circles on the palm of Ginny's. And then Ron's hand which spiderlike kept creeping up Hermione's thigh, until she slapped it away. Luna considered this for a moment and wondered about holding someone's hand. Hannah Abbott, who had come with Neville, had a death grip on his left hand, but Neville had dropped his knife, and was blindly groping for it with his right, trying not to draw attention to his clumsiness. Luna reached over and picked it up, pressing it into his hand, at which point he jumped, and dropped the knife again. She thought he was probably blushing.

Luna lay back down again. She had learnt their voices now, and closing her eyes she could hear all of their voices, most raised in a heated discussion, the murmur of Hermione's asking Neville and Hannah about the baby's room. Almost all then. Had he gone? Craning her neck she looked behind her, to the darker corner of the table, furthest from the fire. A movement from him indicated he was still there, and Luna rolled onto her front to get a better look.

Yes, she could see the things under the table that she couldn't from above. His hands, that once, a long time ago, made flamboyant gestures, lay unmoving on his lap and his feet pointed inwards at the toes. From under here he looked like rather a boring person, but she admired his shoes, black and white and perforated, like from an old film, and they reminded her of sweets, something edible. She looked at his hands again, one placed palm down on either thigh, and occasionally he would ball his fists up and clench his hands up so tight it looked like it hurt.

After watching his hands clench and unclench for a while, she decided she would hold them, and manoeuvred herself into a sitting position, head bowed due to the lowness of the table. His hands clenched again and she covered them with her own, making them still and relax. And they sat like that for the rest of the evening, her hands covering his.

When everyone started to go, she crawled back to her place at the table, and manoeuvred herself back into her seat beside Ginny. She looked over at him and saw only his above the table face, frozen into a smile, and she observed that this upset her, and reaffirmed that things looked much better under the table. And then as she stood to go, a flash of emotion, that passed over his face as quick as a nargle seen out of the corner of one's eye. Something like confusion.

Which reminded her that she had to go and tell Harry about the anti nargle solution discovered in Scandinavia, before he decided to get any mistletoe.

This was meant to be a oneshot, but I got a little carried away, there will be more if you want so R&R please!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All characters and places property of JK

A/N Yeah, resubmitting this chapter, as I got Fred and George mixed up. I'm obviously destined not to be a great writer, at least not without the help of Walters1

Under the Table

Chapter Two

Another thing Luna liked about being under the table was the table itself. And this table, situated in the Weasley's kitchen, was a very fine specimen of a table. Not in the general sense of course, as it was old, abused and a little wonky, but it was certainly fascinating. She had spent quite a bit of time here recently – so had everybody – in preparation for Harry and Ginny's upcoming wedding, and had found out quite a lot about the table.

Firstly, that in the knots of the table, she could see a Snorflack, three moons, a misshapen Harry potter and Dobby (the latter she commemorated by etching the outline into the wood with her wand).

Secondly, that she had not been the first to hide here. It seemed as if every child in the Weasley (apart from Percy, of course) family had scratched their name somewhere into the underside of the table. Juvenile writing declared the presence of Ginny, Ron, Bill and Charlie, the most recent carvings brighter in the wood. It was the table underneath the place Fred always sat at where she found the most writing, a mass of Freds and Georges, and Greds and Forges that crossed each other, intertwined, and sometimes layered on top of each other so thickly nothing could be made out.

Thirdly, in the edge of the table where George sat, there were some fresh markings, a row of Georges, carved over and over again, with harsh, jagged letters.

They looked so lonely there, so defiant, so unaware of anyone else in the world who could be there for him, that it broke off a tiny piece of her heart. And she knew what to do.

George had seen her there this morning, her feet, always bare, visible through chair and table legs. He hadn't stopped, and he doubted she even noticed him passing through. She had always seemed completely unaware of anyone else, so immersed was she in her own musings. Something about this made him bitter – how could she remove herself so completely, seem so devoid of emotion?

Re entering the house to a packed kitchen, he looked for her, subconsciously hyper aware of a flash of dirty blonde hair in the crowd of family and friends, subconsciously disappointed when he couldn't find it, even when he bent down to look under the table. He hadn't realised it yet, but he needed the comfort of her hand on his, her weight against his legs – the unseen support she gave him. He left the kitchen irritated, and unsure as to why.

Later, when the last dregs of the wedding planning committee had left to go home, he went back to the kitchen. The floor under the table was still achingly unoccupied, and before he knew it, he was moving chairs out of the way in order to get there himself.

When under there for a while, he had learnt three things about Luna.

Firstly, that she was not devoid of emotion. A knot in the wood that looked immensely like dobby had been recently outlined by someone. He remembered now that the two had spent months imprisoned together, and he knew that she had cried as much as Harry at his death, but perhaps chose to do it in private.

Secondly, that she was not unaware of anyone else. The edge of the table where he usually sat had recently bore only his name, over and over, the absence of Fred's sickening and hollow, but now her name had been scratched over the top of his. She was telling him that he was not as alone as he had thought, that he was noticed, and loved. The gesture was so intimate it broke his heart a little.

Thirdly, that Luna had made her mark on him as surely as she had made her marks on the table, but he hadn't known it until now.

Yeahhh gets more than a little sickeningly sweet towards the end no? One more part to go! Well please tell me what you thought – if you liked it, hated it etc.

And many thanks to ShataBlack, annouska, cassie glitter and TopazDragon for your kind reviews.

xox


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's wedding had come around. It had been decided that it would be carried out in the theme of Bill and Fleur's midsummer wedding, mainly in order to exorcise some of the bad memories associated with the event – namely, Voldemort's takeover of the ministry.

This proved a tad tricky, as it was currently the middle of December.

However with the help of a heated bubble charm over the whole of the Weasley's garden, some amending to the rather bare trees and a few transported luminous midsummer pixies (which Hermione initially campaigned bitterly against, until realising that they only lived a day anyway, and would have a far better life than those who battled it out against actual British summertime temperatures) the couples' wish was granted. Luna rather liked the abstract element of it all actually.

She dressed accordingly in the palest blue dress adorned with clouds that moved freely around the skirt, requiring some adjustment every now and again when the clouds decided to bunch up and create a thunderstorm, or a rude formation (though this only seemed to happen after Luna had had a few drinks).

She had decided that she would apparate to her fathers house and walk to the wedding from there with him, but since her kidnapping and the explosion of the crumple-horned snorknack, he had become rather paranoid and by the time they arrived at the Weasley's (after some skilful persuasion on Luna's part) most people were in the tent, so they slipped quietly into the back row.

It was only a few minutes later that the wedding march started, and Ginny, radiant and more beautiful than Luna had ever seen her, joined Harry at the front of the marquee.

2 hours later and the party was in full swing. Ron's best man speech had gone down a treat, though no one was sure if his promise of the slow and painful death he would bestow on Harry if he ever hurt Ginny was a joke or not, and the band was excellent. Tables of food had appeared at the side of the tent and the chairs had been replaced by a dance floor, of which Luna was taking full advantage. And as she made her way through countless dance partners who obviously couldn't match her stamina, she couldn't help but be aware of the man on the other side of the floor who was matching her obvious enthusiasm (although with much less inventiveness). George Weasley who had turned his business back around, who had re acquired the ability to make any person laugh, whose hand she had relinquished her hold on as his jokes grew better, his conversation more animated. George Weasley who was now bowing deeply with exaggerated hand movements in a silent request for this dance.

George Weasley who matched her moves with his own, who held her when a slow song came on, who she felt sure she was melting into (she would have blamed the jelloid-inducing flarid for this, had she not been wearing the charm against it around her ankle). And whom, she realised suddenly when she took a break for a drink, she was undeniably in love with.

She needed somewhere to think.

The tables in the tent were the ideal place. Long and narrow, and swathed in white tablecloths that reached the ground, the wedding party existed only to her as a soothing murmur, the ambience furthered only by the soft light of the pixies who darted around the buffet. And yet, Luna was not soothed.

It seemed to her that this space, until recently absolutely hers, had been invaded by someone who had now left an uncomfortable emptiness. Without knowing, she had dedicated some part of herself to him, his needs, and now that he didn't need her any more, that part suddenly yearned for him back.

She knew with startling clarity that just as Fred had once completed George, George now completed her. Furthermore, that as George no longer needed Fred to complete him, he was an absolutely whole person, and she was…what? Half a person? As if she wasn't regarded as enough of a freak to begin with, she was now a freakish half girl, wishing desperately for her freakish half-boy to make her whole.

And speaking of the freakish half boy…

George had just joined her under her table, and without speaking or even looking at her, laid down next to her. After a few moments of silence, during which all the particles along the left side of her body became absolutely aware of the proximity of George's right side, he spoke.

'You know I'm a freak, right?' Luna was not particularly surprised by this apparent show of mind reading, having suspected for a while that George was unwitting host to a psyake (this had become apparent in the way he reached for her hand at the same time as she was reaching for his under the table, and caught her eye whenever she turned to look at him).

'Well not only am I utterly lopsided,' here he indicated his ear, a movement that in such a tight space, caused him to move further into her, which accelerated the speed of her nervous breakdown. She continued to stare at the underside of the table, a beautiful silvery ash wood, brow furrowed in thought.

'And a single twin, which undoubtedly makes for a very lopsided person generally,' he continued, as Luna searched (not desperately at all) for pictures in the wood.

'I also think that one of my hands has gone wrong,' _thestral, hat, sheep_ 'See?' He held up his hand above them. _Tentacula, Snape… _

`Definitely wrong.' Now he was leaning in towards her, speaking into her ear. 'And I think I know why. See, it's been wrong since you stopped holding it'. She could feel his breath against her cheek.

'And the other lopsided thing is, that I think as well as a hole in my head, I have a hole in my heart. Do you have any idea how I fix that?'

Luna sighed._ Really_. Without looking at him, she replied. 'For a rather smart person, that was a stupid question.'

She swore she could feel him grinning in the space between them. 'It was wasn't it?' And then he was turning her head towards her and his lips were on her, tasting of champagne and strawberries (the menu was fitted to the summer theme as well, naturally). Her table had never felt more crowded, and she was pretty sure the pale blue sky of her dress was turning the vivid colours of the sunset, and the clouds spelling out 'wow'. It was only when they were found a few hours later when the marquee was being cleared up by a surprised Percy Weasley that they decided to take their business elsewhere.

One more thing that Luna liked about being under tables was that when George Weasley joined her under there, perhaps when conversation got boring (which seemed to be very often nowdays), it was simply marvellous.


End file.
